Chapter 2
The next day, the wounds on my back, untreated and uncleaned, began to fester.
Infection set in, and a fever took hold, leaving me weak and disoriented.
I was barely conscious when I was yanked from my bed.
Pain tore through my back like fire, and I looked up to see Christian’s urgent expression.
“Hurry, come with me. Brinley’s been attacked. She’s badly injured!”
He didn’t wait for my response, gripping my arm tightly and dragging me toward his quarters.
Brinley lay on his bed, her shoulder exposed where a rogue’s claw had struck her.
I could barely stand, my body trembling with weakness, but I managed to speak.
“Delta Brinley’s injury isn’t beyond the pack healers. Why call me?”
Christian’s voice was sharp, his tone accusatory.
“Brinley’s a woman. The other healers are male. Do you think it’s appropriate for them to see her like this?”
I stared at him, stunned.
I wanted to ask why it mattered when Brinley often bared her arms and joked with the other warriors without a second thought. If modesty was so important, why was she lying half-naked in his bed now?
The questions burned in my mind, but I swallowed them, knowing they’d fall on deaf ears.
Christian helped Brinley sit up, his voice soft as he spoke to her.
“Brinley, I’ve brought the pack’s healer. Stay strong.”
Brinley leaned against him, her voice sweet but strained.
“I’m fine. I’m a warrior. I can handle the pain.”
Christian’s arms tightened around her, his gaze filled with worry.
For a moment, I saw a reflection of us—of the past.
When I first became a healer, I’d often been overwhelmed by the blood and wounds.
Christian would hold me then, promising to mark me as his mate.
But that promise had come and gone.
His sharp voice pulled me back.
“What are you waiting for? Tend to her wound.”
I steadied myself and approached.
The process was excruciating—not for Brinley, but for me. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through my back, but I pushed through.
Brinley flinched at the slightest pressure, her soft cries of pain drawing Christian’s attention.
He glared at me, his voice impatient.
“Be gentler. Can’t you see she’s in pain?”
His words were laced with concern for her and frustration with me.
When I finally finished bandaging her wound, I was drenched in sweat.
The pain in my back was unbearable now, but I forced myself to stand.
Christian was still by Brinley’s side, gently wiping her brow.
I turned to leave, but I barely made it out of the room before my legs gave out.
The world went black.
When I woke, Christian was standing over me, holding a letter I’d written to my mother.
Panic surged through me, and I reached for it, but he tossed it onto the bed.
He didn’t ask why I’d collapsed. Instead, his voice was cold, cutting through the silence.
“I’ve told you before, Rayna. I’m not ready to mark you as my mate. Sending this letter to your mother, arranging a mark ceremony in two weeks—was this your way of forcing my hand?”
I stared at him, stunned by his misunderstanding.
His anger grew, his words sharp.
“And Brinley—she’s been nothing but patient with you, even when you’ve been hostile toward her. Yet today, even when she was injured, you couldn’t show her any kindness. What’s happened to you, Rayna?”
I didn’t respond immediately, too exhausted to argue.
Finally, I muttered, “I was wrong.”
The words seemed to catch him off guard, his anger deflating slightly.
After a moment, his tone softened, though his words were still firm.
“Rayna, Brinley saved my life. She’s my Beta, my comrade. You need to get along with her. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Saved his life?
I almost laughed, but I kept my head down, my voice steady.
“Of course. As for the ceremony… don’t worry about it.”
I didn’t look at him as I spoke, but I could feel his gaze linger.
He said nothing more, and I closed my eyes, willing the pain to fade.
But it wasn’t just my back that hurt.
It was everything.
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